


Ladiesbingo Round 6

by Pingoodle (ThatAloneOne)



Series: Ladiesbingo [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2020-11-27 10:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatAloneOne/pseuds/Pingoodle
Summary: Original short stories. Includes: man eating horse, girl-eating ocean, and some friendly ghosts.





	1. this is how the world ends (bang bang)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora feels stifled in the filtered air of the indoors. Outside, Star waits.

The world ended with a bang, dust listing high in something that almost looked like a cloud. The whimpers came later, when everything was settled and done.  
  
Water caught on Cora’s cheeks, the half-hearted wind tossing the sprinkler’s spray. The dirt was clumped and dark from the previous hour’s rotation, but still the sprinklers rattled on. Anything to keep the dust out of the air. Out of their lungs. Out of their blood.  
  
Cora knew she was close enough to death that it didn’t matter anymore. They all were. Some were just better at lying to themselves.  
  
Eyes on the scarlet horizon, she slipped the hooks of her mask off the backs of her ears and gave a good, decisive cough. Something loosened in her chest. A second set of hacking sent it flying. Cora wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. If it was blood, it was indecipherable from the sticky coating of dust and dirt and anti-rad treatments plastered to her skin.  
  
Without a mask, the air tasted like ozone and synthetic sweetness. The moisture from the earth melted up to coat her tongue.  
  
“Star,” Cora said to the air and the trees and the poisoned planet. It was half a reprimand, half a plea, half a tired knowing.  
  
Star sighed from behind her. Warm air curved around Star’s body, electrified. Cora could feel the near-miss of their hands. “Cora. Your mask.”  
  
Cora shrugged, vaguely, and gestured at the fast-forming puddles. “No dust gets kicked up when they’re on.”  
  
“No dust _here_,” Star agreed, in a backhanded sort of way. Cora smiled, Star still at her back. “You shouldn’t be out here so often, you know.”  
  
Cora knew a lot of things. The trouble was caring. “I miss… this. Everything.” The sky beckoned her, no matter how far she was inside. Indoors, the air was easier on her lungs. The cotton cleared and deep breaths were possible, but it wasn’t worth the same as this. “Inside isn't. I don’t. It isn’t _enough_.”  
  
“You’ll like being dead even less,” Star said. It was sensible of her to say that. Cora didn’t like it. “You can’t taste the same. See the same. Talk the same."  
  
The sprinklers sputtered off, the sun burning it to mist. Cora breathed it in, her eyes fluttering shut for a half-second. Oh, to be alive. “Even the dead feel.”  
  
Star’s voice slid down, a velvet husk. “Not like you.”  
  
“Enough,” Cora said, an echo.  
  
When Cora opened her eyes, Star had moved to face her. Cora drank her in, her long-lashed eyes and the delicate set of her collarbones. Her edges were embers in the end of the world’s ruby light. “Cora. It doesn’t need to be now."  
  
Instead of responding, Cora knelt, her bare knees sinking into mud. The sky reflected, bloody, in the puddles. Star knelt across from her, skirts spread in a cloud. Cora swiped her thumb across the dryest part of the ground between them and came up coated in ghost dust. Cora pressed her thumb to her lips, a fingerprint against her tacky lipstick.  
  
Star touched her, clammy from the water, her breath a soundless rattle on Cora’s lips. Star licked the ghost dust away, so close to solid Cora could taste death as something more than iron. 


	2. BFFS4EVA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Candace is getting another tattoo because Veronica told her they had better things to do. Vampires and werewolves make the best kind of friends.

Veronica told me it was a bad idea. So of course it became a point of pride.  
  
My skin was my history — the old tattoos faded blue, the newer tattoos shimmering black. A biography in old film, spooled out in tarnished silver. Well. Not silver. But something that glistened like it.  
  
“If you don’t stop giving me that look, I really will tattoo _CANDACE AND VERONICA BFFS4EVA_ on my bicep,” I threatened. Out of view of the tattoo artist, I signed IN BLOOD RED BECAUSE VAMPIRE GET IT and then a middle finger.  
  
Veronica, in view of the tattoo artist and much more fastidious about things like “safety” and “secrecy” than I was, refrained from replying in kind. I saw her fingers twitch, though, like she wanted to spell out just what she thought of that idea. “Bad idea,” she told me, mildly. Her teeth gleamed in the harsh fluorescence.  
  
“My favourite kind,” I told her, and winked. I traced circles in the air, my hanging arm half-numb. The way it was pressed against the edge of the tattoo chair wasn’t ideal for circulation. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”  
  
Veronica yawned, her jaw cracking inhumanly wide. Her hand covered her mouth, graceful in a practiced kind of way. I knew it was to cover her fangs. “Well. At least for that one we can blame the both of us. This…” she gestured to the scene. Me, flat on my stomach on the tattoo chair, blood and ink tacky on my skin where the tattoo was half-complete. “This is all on you.”  
  
“Hey, it isn’t my fault you aren’t getting a memento.” I chewed my lip a moment against the pain, let my eyes close and the light flicker away. When I opened my eyes, Veronica watched me, unmoved. I knew she loved me anyway. “Gotta write history, you know."  
  
That was the difference between vampires and werewolves — the important one, at least. Vampires just couldn’t get tattoos. Vampire blood was as hostile to intruders as vampires themselves were. Honestly, even if it _was_ possible, it wouldn’t have been a good idea. Vampires lived a long time and ate easily piss-off-able people. Having permanently identifying marks on your body wasn’t the best idea.  
  
I, however, could decorate my body as I pleased. They’d fade eventually, of course. But in the meantime, we tended to eat our controversial meals in a less recognizable form. You can’t tattoo fur.  
  
“Speaking of history,” my artist said. Gertrude looked about three steps from the grave, but so did Veronica in the wrong light so I didn’t judge her for it. “Did you know they used to tattoo with toxic heavy metals?”  
  
I pushed my chin against the cup of my hand, close to a nod as I could get. The tattoo gun moved down slowly, circling, the faint scent of iron and another, fainter metal. “Yeah. Red was arsenic. Charming, really.”  
  
I’d learned that the interesting way — been sick as a dog, pun intended, for almost a week as my body ejected the poison. It had been decades before I ventured away from good old traditional ashes again.  
  
“Charming,” Veronica echoed. She flung one leg over the other, her skirts rearranging themselves as if by magic. Hidden from Gertrude by a new curtain, her fingers whispered something rude. I beamed. “What is it made of nowadays, then?”  
  
“In this one?” Gertrude paused a moment, her spine popping as she moved upright. “Carbon, mostly.” She tapped a constellation on the back of my calf. “Titanium dioxide in that one, I’d reckon."  
  
“No metals, then?” A hint of a smile tugged at Veronica’s lips. “Like silver, for instance.”  
  
F U C K Y O U, I spelled. And then gave her a thumbs up.  
  
Ever pragmatic, Gertrude mopped the sweat off her forehead. “No. That wouldn’t be a good idea. Heavy metals in the bloodstream rarely are.”  
  
OH REALLY? Veronica tapped out. I laughed, near silent. Then I let Gertrude got back to work.  
  
I felt the time pass less in ticking minutes, and more in moonrise. It was my time of the month in the non-furry way, but the furry kind was approaching. Six days till the moon was full, and another hour tonight before the waxing crescent would reach its peak. Veronica idled in her chair, surrounded in the soft noises of cloth shifting and the soft scent of dust and age.  
  
Finally, Gertrude creaked back again and sighed heavily. “All done.”  
  
I pried my eyes open, sleepier than I wanted to admit. “Ready to see it, Vee? Have the surprise of your life? See art unveiled?"  
  
Veronica gave me a glare full of death and mascara. “If you really did do _BFFS4EVA_, I might have to skin you alive.”  
  
“Girls,” Gertrude admonished, shining with blissful ignorance. “Don’t be catty.”  
  
DOGGY, I signed, my hand hovering over Gertrude’s shoulder. Veronica sighed, explosively., and shook herself free of her chair. “Yes, alright. Just show me what was worth taking hours of my valuable time. Whatever it is.”  
  
I could see in her face when the shapes littered down my back registered.  
  
“Phases of the moon,” Veronica said. “All of them. On your back.”  
  
I rolled over, not caring about the ache in my moon-hungry bones or the sting of my bloody skin. I gave her my best puppy dog grin. “Yep. Isn’t it perfect?”  
  
Veronica pinched the bridge of her nose, but from my angle I could see the fond smile she was trying to hide. “Right. Perfect.”  
  
I LOVE YOU TOO, I signed. I knew she couldn’t see it, but that was alright. It could be our secret.


	3. As Above, So Below

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella is in love with Kassidy. But she can feel something in the sea nobody else can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone gets sort of brainwashed into becoming part of the ocean. So. Keep that in mind.

Something lived in the Below.  
  
I could feel its pulse some days, a tremble in the water. The churning sea breathed out in whitecaps. Deep, deep down, the thing felt like home.  
  


* * *

  
It was a joke in my family how much I adored the sea. According to Ma, when the family had mentioned moving away from our little cottage on the water, I had burst into tears and hadn’t quit crying until she promised they wouldn’t leave.  
  
I had been three.  
  
“Going down to the water again, Ella girl?”  
  
I stopped braiding my hair long enough to look up at Ma. She looked like me, but she looked more like a physical representation of what wearing warm sweaters felt like. “No, I’m taking a day trip to the city.” I resumed my braiding. It wasn’t good to go down to the water with my hair amuss. Kassidy was going to be there, after all. “Of course I’m going down. Kassidy too.”  
  
Ma tutted at something or another, and then I felt her cool fingers nudge mine out of the way. I stayed rock still until she finished, the edges of the braid even and smooth. Her hand rested on my shoulder another moment. “Be safe,” she said.  
  
“It’s the sea,” I told her. It was as much of an assurance as she was going to get. “But I won’t provoke it. Happy?”  
  
Ma sighed, and let me free. “Sometimes."  
  


* * *

  
“Don’t you ever want to swim?” Kassidy was laid out of her back, one arm slung over her eyes to protect against the sun. She’d made her way out to the end of our little jetty instead of staying on the shore proper like we usually did. “I mean, I know there’s the rip out there nice and close but… I mean, you’re down here a lot. Aren’t you curious?”  
  
I sat down next to her, trying to calculate how close was too close and hoping I wasn’t failing. I probably was. Kassidy was magnetic, no two ways about it. Some days I thought it was her eyes, blue and clear as the sea in early summer. Other days I knew it was her lips, her smile, the way I thought she would taste. “Not really. I know it’s too dangerous out here.”  
  
It was. I could feel the riptide like a blow when I was out on a boat. It was an utterly alien difference from the silk of the water in the bay proper. It was the same magnitude of difference between the water here and the water… well, anywhere else.  
  
But really, it wasn’t the rip that scared me. I could feel the warning in my bones. The song. The yearning. That was enough to make me steer clear. I cleared my throat. “Yeah. The rip is too much. Danger. Too dangerous.”  
  
The waves laughed, slopping up onto the wood planks and sending Kassidy shooting upright, tumbling into me. She was sun-warmed and drenched in ice and she was laughing. I clung to her to steady us both and for a minute, just a minute, I forgot.  
  
The sea did not.  
  


* * *

  
_liar liar come below_  
our dark waters tell you so  
and see our world of endless night  
give up give up there is no fight  
  


* * *

  
When I was alone it was stronger. That should have scared me. A year ago, it had. But the salt was sweet on my tongue and the wind gentle in my fraying hair.  
  
And it was easy. So easy. To listen.  
  


* * *

  
“Do you feel it?” I asked her, one short winter day. Ice danced across the soles of my feet. The ocean tossed and turned the wind, and the wind flung Kassidy’s hair in a halo. “Do you hear it?”  
  
She squinted at me, sun-blind and shivering. Snowflakes flashed from her eyelashes. “It’s just the sea. It’s just like that.”  
  
I felt a hum, from the Below. Icy rock bit at my palms, braced on the edge of the rock shore. I breathed in. Out. I said: “Yeah. Maybe."  
  


* * *

  
Nights later, when I could stand it no longer, I picked my way down to the shore. My feet knew the path. It felt like floating, fleeing, escaping. I clattered down the rocks without feeling anything but the press of gravity and the salt air in my lungs.  
  
At the edge of the water, I let my legs go and ended up with the ends of my hair swinging into the water. It reflected me, wild dark eyes against the wild dark sea.  
  
And it whispered.  
  
And I answered.  
  


* * *

  
“Ella?”  
  
I blinked, the sun a sudden revelation. “Oh. Yeah?"  
  
“I thought you took me out here to say something.” Kassidy wouldn’t quite meet my eyes, her gaze resting somewhere around my chin.  
  
“Right,” I said, faint. I could barely hear her over the cry of the gulls, the call of the water. The ice had melted early this year, leaving sleek glass behind. “Sorry. I don’t think I remember.”  
  
Kassidy looked me in the eyes then, and I watched blankly as water gathered. “I should have known.” She slammed her hand against the rock. Red stayed behind. “You’re always like this now.”  
  
I scowled. “Like _what_?”  
  
Kassidy made an incoherent noise and hauled herself to her feet. The jetty quaked beneath us, the boards only a few years from failure. I could feel the water in each of the joists, waiting to be freed. “_This_. Gone. It’s like you’ve fucking vanished, Ella. All you care about is the sea and the spray-“  
  
“Hey,” I said, sharp. “Don’t-“  
  
Kassidy’s fists clenched, blood resting high in her cheeks. “Don’t what? Insult the water? It’s water, Ella. It can’t hear. There’s nothing down there. There nothing more to it.”  
  
“For you!”  
  
“For me? I thought _you _were going to be for me! Fucking years, Ella. How long is it going to take you?”  
  
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Something flickered in the back of my mind. “I- I didn’t-.”  
  
The tension left Kassidy all in a rush. Her breath whistled out of her, fogging in the evening air. “Yeah. I know.” She ran a hand through her hair, sending it astray. “I know,” she said again. “Guess it’s a little late now.”  
  
With that, she turned and marched off the dock, boards rattling under her feet. My heart pattered with it, sinking and not even trying to swim.  
  


* * *

  
_we will crush in indigo_  
you, our sweet romeo  
we are revenge, an undertow  
liar liar come below  
  


* * *

  
Something lived in the Above.  
  
I could could feel her pulse some days, a flutter against the surface. She breathed out clouds in the cold air. Far, far above, the girl felt familiar.


	4. A Horse By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacks loves her horse that also happens to be a kelpie. Kate loves her. Somehow. Also the mob is involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a literal man eating horse that works for the mob.

Having a kelpie instead of a horse wasn’t as different as I had expected. They were the same size, the same shape, and tried to bite you with the same consistency. My kelpie had the same teeth as a horse, too. Blunt herbivore teeth that were made for grinding, not tearing. That didn't stop Pasiphäe from trying.  
  
The solution to was the same as with a regular horse: keep half an eye on your mount and be ready to have your elbow up if they made a move. They could pop themselves in the jaw if they were trying to get frisky. Natural consequences.  
  
The only unnatural thing about my horse-shaped, ridable, man eater was her colour.  
  
Kelpies came in one colour: green. Luckily for me, Pasiphäe was a light, horizon-from-underwater green. It lent itself well to dye. Which was good, because kelpies were, technically, illegal.  
  
But hey, my day job was illegal too. So. Pasiphäe at least was cute.  
  
“Good girl,” I told Pasiphäe. She had been more cooperative than usual today. Maybe it was her latest meal. Maybe it was Maybelline. “Just your tail left after this, okay? Then you’ll look all lovely and charming and non-lethal."  
  
“Jacks,” Kate called. She clattered down the stable halls with all the grace of a rampaging elephant. I could hear more than one horse kick a wall in their surprise.  
  
I quieted Pasiphäe, running my hand down her sleek neck. I didn’t care if it came away orange. “Shhh. Shh-shh.” I looked up at Kate over the crest of Pasiphäe’s mane. Kate looked flustered and put together all in one, packaged up in a suit that looked good enough to eat. “Careful,” I warned. “You’ll scare her, running up like that.”  
  
A familiar exhausted look passed over Kate’s face. She shoved her hands into her pockets, leaning against a stall-half door. “The man eating mythical monster will be scared. By me."  
  
I stroked Pasiphäe once more, then returned to setting the dye. “She’s basically a horse.”  
  
Kate laughed, her head tipping back, her neck a dark streak above the crisp collar of her shirt. “And I’m basically a fish with legs. You know she’d eat you if you gave her even an inch, right?”  
  
“Yes,” I cooed, and spread another handful of macerated chestnuts into Pasiphäe’s mane. “She’s got a good appetite. Don’t you?”  
  
Pasiphäe snorted and tossed her head, spraying the both of us with bits of chestnut. I spat out what little had landed in my mouth, and brushed the rest off my jacket.  
  
Kate sighed, and pulled a hand out to check her watch. “Speaking of. We’ve got another delivery of her… food in a couple hours. Are you going to be around to receive it or do I need to reassign Brendan?”  
  
I pulled a face. “Another already? Hasn't Grandmob knocked off everyone she doesn’t like already?”  
  
“Your _grandmother,_” Kate said, primly, “has her own agenda and we don’t need to know it to obey it.”  
  
I could concede to that. “Do you want to give her a treat before you go?” I brandished a package of sausages. It was the kelpie equivalent of carrots, as much as Kate and the rest of the stable staff liked to goggle at it.  
  
“Do I want to put my fingers near a-“  
  
“Okay, okay. Seriously though, if you do it right, she’s not going to eat you.”  
  
“Until she slips her halter and goes wild and eats the entire county.”  
  
“A horse could kill you almost as easily,” I reasoned. Not one to deprive Pasiphäe of treats, I offered the sausage to her myself.  
  
Pasiphäe peeled her lips back, delicate, and picked the sausage from my palm. With my fingers all clamped together, there was no surface for her to nibble on or mistake for food. Just like a horse. Kate and I watched her chew it, bits of juice and flesh scattering from her lips onto the floor. I smiled, contented. Kate looked like she was re-evaluating her entire life path.  
  
With Pasiphäe sated and dyed, I made my way around her to Kate. Kate pretended not to watch me, her eyes fixed on the kelpie at my back. I kissed her, sweet with just a kind of spice. “See you tonight.”  
  
Kate huffed half a laugh, bumped noses with me. “Wouldn’t miss it. Wouldn’t want you to send your happy horse there after me.”  
  
I kissed her again just because I could. “Not until you missed the second date, at least.”


End file.
